


French Lessons

by eruthiel



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: 2000s, Bad French, Fiona saves the day, Gen, Languages, New Labour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 19:46:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruthiel/pseuds/eruthiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Peter leaves for Brussels, Alastair tries to make amends for kicking him out of government by offering to teach him French.</p>
            </blockquote>





	French Lessons

"I want you to concentrate _very_ hard and try to follow me this time."

Expectant, but not especially optimistic, Peter watches Alastair over his reading glasses. He can see the strain beginning to show on Alastair's face as he bends over his notebook and conjugates _être_ for the eighth time this morning. If he's honest with himself, Peter has a fairly clear grasp of this already, but because it's funny to watch his new tutor try not to blow a fuse, he hasn't let on yet. When Alastair finishes, Peter gives him an apologetic smile and says, "Well, I'm sure it'll sink in sooner or later."

Much to Peter's private amusement, Alastair grits his teeth and just about succeeds in keeping a lid on his irritation. It's not a lid which is going to hold for very long. "You know what," he says at last, his voice strangled, "maybe we need to try a different approach."

"Maybe you're right. Listen, don't feel too bad about it; some people just aren't cut out for teaching."

Alastair jabs a finger at Peter across the kitchen table. "You're the one who can't even get the basics after going over it a hundred times!"

"And in all fairness, it's a _very_ long time since you did your degree..."

"Right! That's it!" Alastair gets abruptly to his feet, snapping, "I was only trying to do you a favour, but if that's the way you're going to be..."

Taking off his glasses, Peter says calmly, "I wasn't aware I was being 'that way,' whatever it is. Please, Alastair, have a little patience. I did warn you that I've never been adept at languages."

"Yeah, but you've got to at least try and meet me half way. I'm starting to think you're only here to -" At this point the arrival of Fiona in the doorway makes Alastair stop short and drop his aggressive stance. "Oh, hello."

" _Bonjour,_ " she replies, raising an eyebrow. "How's the French going? Hit a wall, have we?"

Peter smirks. "I'm having a bit of verb trouble, I'm afraid. I'm not sure Alastair's quite up to the task of resolving it for me."

Before Alastair's retaliation has time to explode, Fiona sighs, "Oh, for god's sake. Ali, go sit on the stairs and count down from a hundred until you've calmed down. This needs a fresh perspective."

Although Alastair mutters something resentful on his way out, he seems glad of the excuse to get away. Fiona closes the door behind him and turns to face Peter, who is still sat in his chair, surrounded by an aura of smugness. "Right," says Fiona, stepping over to the table, "what are you struggling with?"

Peter gestures at the open notebook and the offending verb table. "Just this. I'm being asked to treat _suis_ and _es_ as the same word. It's horribly taxing."

Narrowing her eyes, Fiona looks down at the page, then back at Peter. "Oh, Peter, really," she frowns. "You may never be any good at French, but you're not slow. Did you think I would let you get away with this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do, you spiteful sod. I get that you're upset about what happened, but that was nearly four years ago. Must you insist on holding it over him like this?"

Peter stiffens. He considers turning on her, or walking out before any damage can be done. But he's shamed by how quickly she figured him out, and after all, she's not the one who sacked him. "Before you leap to conclusions, keep in mind that I do actually need to learn a bit of French, for living in Belgium if nothing else. So my intentions are partly sincere." Fiona looks unimpressed, and Peter yields. "But, apart from that, I feel I'm entitled to a certain amount of harmless gloating."

If anything, Fiona is now even less impressed. "That's just nasty. Things are only going to get worse between you if that's the attitude you have."

"Maybe I wouldn't if he actually, I don't know, _apologised_..."

"He's trying to apologise!" Fiona throws her hands up in frustration. "Why do I need to do all your emotions for you? How hard do you think it was for him to swallow his pride and offer you lessons?"

"Well, I -"

"It was fucking hard, okay? But he did it because he knows you're still upset, and this may come as a surprise, since you seem to think the whole world has it in for you - but that bothers him. So you lost your job, so this doesn't go all the way to covering it, but can't you at least do the decent thing and act like you appreciate it?"

Peter sneers, "What, for his sake?"

"For the sake of your friendship. And ours, come to that." Fiona sounds like she has more to say, but at that moment Alastair reappears in the doorway. She turns to him with a smile. "Ah, there you are. All calmed down now?" He grunts an affirmative. "Hmm. Well, Peter and I have had a look at it and he's agreed to make a bit more of an effort, haven't you, Peter?"

Nodding, Peter says warily, "So I have."

"There, you see? All you need is a bit of patience. Good luck, boys. Play nice," adds Fiona, before leaving them alone together once more.

Peter waits in silence as Alastair slowly makes his way back over to the table and sits down. "All right," he says, once there, "let's go back and make this so straightforward even you can understand it. ... I'll try not to lose my temper this time."

"I'd appreciate that," offers Peter. "I don't want to still be stuck here in two months and not be any further on."

"I can't guarantee that won't happen, but I promise I'll do everything in my power to boost your French up from 'extremely shit' to merely 'quite shit.' There's a Celtic game I need to watch at two, but until then, I'm all yours."

If Peter's still sitting here in two months with no understanding of the language, but a little less bitterness weighing him down as he prepares to start afresh in Europe, nobody will be able to say these lessons weren't a success.


End file.
